Teenage Fever

Almost

"What's wrong, Leslie? You sound funny."
"Nothing, Ma,"
"I can hear it in your voice, Leslie."
I let out a sigh.
"I knew you should have never left home."
"That's not it, Ma. I'm happy with work, just under a lot of stress."

Emotional stress that is.

"Are you coming here tomorrow?"
"Yes."
I stand up to feel the shower water I was running.
"Ohhhh, I'm so happy!"
"And I got a surprise."
"What?"
"It's a surprise, Ma, I can't tell you."
"Well, I'm looking forward to it and seeing you, Les."
"Can't wait to see you too, Ma."

After the conversation I hopped in the shower and let the warm water run down me. It felt so good I didn't want to wash myself up just yet. The shower was just what I needed. It was so therapeutic and my thoughts weren't so heavy on my mind.

A knock came at the door. I opened the shower curtain to look out. All I saw was an arm and hand, Damario's, slide a glass of red wine across the sink counter top before retreating and closing the door. My eyes lingered on the glass.

I took a sip of it after my shower. Surprisingly it was perfect, felt as if I was having a little spa day.

Walking out of the bathroom I only had my towel around me and my glass of wine.
"What you wa—"

I look up when I heard the voice stop. D was standing outside the kitchen watching me. We had halted all movement.
I was hoping it wouldn't feel weird but that's exactly what was happening. Me just standing in the middle of the hall with a towel around my waist, still wet and my glass halfway to my mouth.
The way D was staring at me you would have thought I was a performer at Chocolate City.

"Ummm," he said before rushing back into the kitchen.
Well, that was a first. I don't think I've ever seen him flabbergasted or lost for words.
I figured it was best if I put some clothes on.

The noise of pots and pans grew louder and louder as I made my way into the kitchen.
"Hey."
I sat at the kitchen table.
"The wine was really good."

I notice the bottle on the table and grab some more. May have chugged the first glass in the bedroom while I was getting changed. I needed something to kick in fast.

"Yeah?" He said but was moving around and focusing on cooking.
"What are you making?"
"Uhhh."
He looked lost for a second.
"Spaghetti pasta with hot sausages."
"That sounds good as fuck," the drink in me said.
I gulped the last of my second drink.
"Where's KJ?"
"He... went out. That was a while ago, though." He paused in front of the refrigerator to think about it. "His ass better hurry up back before I lock up for the night."
I stand up, contemplating hard if I should get another drink.
"I'm turning into you, D," I said while giving in and pouring another glass.
"Ain't nothing wrong with that, drink all you want, I stay prepared."

I look over at him and see him bending besides an open bottom cabinet stocked with different kinds of alcohol beverages.

"Damn!"
"I'll consider rehab in five years," he said and closed the door.
I laugh.

"Smells goodt up in here!" A booming voice said.
KJ barged in out of nowhere, looked around, poured himself a small glass, drank it.
"Aiight, I'll be back later."
"Stop that in and out, nigga, this ain't a fucking motel!"
"I got you tomorrow, D," KJ said before walking back out.
"Speaking of tomorrow, I still need to pack."

D walked passed me and into his room where he grabbed his duffle bag and proceeded to get busy.

I sit next to the bag on the bed with my glass glued to my hand.
"You looking forward to the trip?"
"Hell yeah. I haven't been to Section 3 since I left."
"That's good, I told my mom I got a surprise."
He finally looks at me with a perked up expression, leans back with his hand on his chest.
"Me?"
I hold back my smile with the bite of my lip and nod.
"This weekend is going to be lit. I can taste the fried fish now!"
"So can I."
"I never get out, thanks for this, Les."
"Not a problem," I say before putting glass to mouth.
D scrunches his face at me.
"You drinking more than me right now."
"Shit, I know."

I needed to quit too. I was feeling the wine two glasses ago.
"You look gone. Your eyes, mad sleepier than they already look."
"I'm okay, though."
I officially put the glass down.
"Shit," D said before him and his double ran out of the room.
I shook my head to get my vision straight.

I fell back on the bed and got the sensation as if I was floating. I fumbled with my phone until it was in my face. My message was still unanswered.

Fuck it.

I called his phone. But I got his voicemail.
"Yoooo! I texted you hours ago. What's up? Hit me back."
I had the strength to hang up after that.
"Here," a voice.

I look up and blinked until D wasn't moving anymore. He had a bottle of water in my face.
I grabbed it and put it aside before falling back on the bed.

"Lay down with me," I mumbled.
"The food's done," he says but lies down.

We laid quiet, side by side in silence.
"I'm hungry," I say and he chuckles.
"Me too."
"Thanks for dinner."
I felt his finger poking my cheek.
"It's nothing."
Without even thinking about it I grabbed his hand.

And didn't let go.

I felt myself bring his hand to my lips. I just simply let it happen. It remained quiet, our breathing shallow. The only other movement being my lips drawing over the back of his hand. Our fingers were intertwined. My mind was here but also not, I was partially in a trance as I watched the ceiling. Not a word came from D, I briefly wondered if he was sleeping but every once in a while his fingers would move.

We had to have laid like this in silence for 15 minutes. Then I hear one of our stomach's growl so I slowly got off the bed and pulled D up. He stood before me only two inches in front of me. We stood in silence, him watching me, me watching him. I hadn't let his hand go so his fingers were still in between mine. His eyes found mines and I didn't break contact. I was being drawn into him. Falling into him. I started to move closer. He made a sharp inhale, eyes falling to my lips.

Then the front door slammed.

"Holy shit," I said after nearly jumping into the air.
Damario's hand was over his heart, his face in nothing but confusion.
"I want my money, Dré!" KJ was screaming.
"Nigga!" D said and stormed out. "I know you not slamming doors in my fucking spot."
"Sorry, D. But you know your neighbors don't care."
He proceeds to go back to his phone call.

I tried to get my heart to slow down, it was racing before I even heard the door slam.
D rolled his eyes then walked into the kitchen. I watch as he pulls two plates from the oven.
"I made our plates," he said in a dead voice.

We sat at the table and ate in silence.